Brothers in Arms
by CrypticSlayer
Summary: Two brothers, Jol and Calanon Al'Kri, have never truly left the village of Riverwood and know nearly nothing of the world. When a rough-looking man clad in black with a large scar on his face comes to the village, they decide to embark on a small journey to Whiterun with this mysterious man and their friend Garren to take a break from daily life. But the trip doesn't remain short.
1. Chapter 1 - A Stranger in Town

**To any readers out there, thank you for taking an interest in my story! This story has a slightly slower build-up, but I assure you that it will be picking up some action in Chapter 3, titled "Imprisoned", coming hopefully next week. I appreciate any and all follows, favorites, and views. I especially appreciate anyone who leaves a review, as the good ones will inspire me to continue writing and the critical ones will allow me to see my mistakes, correct them, and grow as a writer. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - A Stranger in Town**

I let the frigid, clear water of the river run over my rough, bleeding hands as I eyed a rabbit that was hopping along on the other side. I wish I had my bow just then, for I would love to see if I could get an arrow through that rabbit while it was moving. I had hunted much bigger game in the land around Riverwood, but anything would be better than working at the lumber mill just now. My hands were calloused from having worked there for well over a year, but despite this, my hands would still occasionally crack and bleed if I didn't wear gloves the entire time.

After my hands felt soothed and numb from the chill of the water, I stood and dried them on the sides of my grey pants as I scanned my eyes along the river bed. My eyes then wandered up the white-capped mountains and rested on Bleak-Falls Barrow. I had never been up there – we were never allowed as kids – and besides, it was very dangerous according to all of the older people in Riverwood. I was now twenty years in age myself, born on the seventeenth of Sun's Dusk, and even then everyone still warns of the evils of Bleak-Falls Barrow, as if they are real and that I'm still a child who believes in such things. If you asked me, it certainly must simply be some abandoned ruins that contain, at worst, some skeevers or wolves. Nonetheless, I never scaled the mountain to see for myself, and I figured I should stick to my hunting excursions anyhow.

Hod called from up on the mill, "Jol, my boy. You're free to go, you've done enough work for the day. I'll let Gerdur know to mark your hours down in the book." The yellow-haired man was about as sturdy and Nordic as one could be, right down to the accent he spoke with.

I called back, "Thank you, Hod. And give my thanks to Gerdur this evening for the apple pies she made the other day, they were delicious!" Hod nodded and waved as he turned to head home.

I turned around to face the cabin that I lived in. It was very close to the mill, not even a minute's walk. The sun was beginning to set, so it would be time for supper soon. I walked up to my home and opened the wooden door, a creak sounding that had always been there for as long as I could remember. I shut the door behind me and was greeted with the warmth being provided by a good sized fire in the fireplace, crackling away as its flames danced about to no particular rhythm. My brother, Cal, was sitting in a chair he had pulled up next to the fireplace with his feet propped up on another chair and reading "Power of the Elements." He liked to read, especially books about magic. He didn't really believe in 'magic' or 'magicka', and neither did I, but he still found it fascinating for some reason.

Looking up from his book for just a moment to see that I was there, he said, "Hey, Jol. How was working with Hod today?" He thumbed to the next page of his book.

I shrugged, even though he was no longer looking at me, "Same as always. He was very quiet today, though. Didn't tell any stories about living in Whiterun or his trips to Windhelm. He looked worried about something, but didn't say what though. Hope he's alright."

"Maybe it's the dragons again!" Cal said with a snicker.

"No, nothing like that. He would have been jumping out of his skin if the dragon came back." A dragon did attack the town a long while back, just a little over a year ago, and allegedly a man claiming to be 'Dragonborn' passed through the village. Of course, the one time in my entire life where something truly interesting happens in Riverwood, Cal and I happened to be off on a hunting excursion and missed the whole thing. I want to be skeptical that this dragon thing ever even occurred, but all of the older adults in the village say it's true. On top of this, guards sent by the Jarl were roaming around when we got back from our week-long hunt, which never happened before. Either way, it's been a year now since then, and the only other thing I've heard is that this Dragonborn has slipped in and out of Riverwood discreetly on several occasions. I just don't know though. I've never seen him nor do I understand why he's so secretive.

"Maybe Hod's been in communication with the Stormcloaks recently," Cal joked again.

I shrugged again, "So what if he has? Even if he were a Stormcloak himself, he's still a good man."

This time Cal actually looked up from his book and met my eyes, "You know, when father gets home you're going to have to figure out what to do about your acquaintance with Hod and Gerdur."

" _If_ he gets home," I replied, looking down from his gaze for a moment, "Besides, there's no actual proof to show that they support the Stormcloaks, and–"

Cal cut me off, "Our father is risking his life as we speak by _fighting_ Stormcloaks right now. Do you think he's going to care about proof? The rumors about Hod and Gerdur have been around for a long time."

I was getting angry, "Who cares about rumors? They are good people."

"Everyone cares about rumors in this village, that's all there is!" Cal's voice was raised. He sighed, and went on in a more moderate tone, "Look, Jol. I don't necessarily agree with the war myself. Not either side of it. To me, it all just sounds like a lot of fighting and killing. But father is a full-blooded Redguard. He is very stubborn and his opinions about everything – including Hod and Gerdur – have been set for a very long time."

This was true. Our father is a Redguard, trained in the ways of his people by learning to fight and survive in the Alik'r Desert of Hammerfell. He does not talk much about the past regarding how he ended up in Skyrim, or Riverwood no less, fell in love with a Nord woman, and fathered two boys on his own after our mother had passed from a fatal illness when I was only two years old. All I know is that he joined the Imperial army and was assigned to assist in stifling the Stormcloak rebellion here in Skyrim. And with that, his Redguard blood ensues a very stubborn foothold in his beliefs towards any and everything, including a powerful hatred towards the Stormcloaks and their "petty" war. Cal and I, being half Nord and half Redguard, were at least a little less stubborn. We thought we were, at least. Others would argue that this combination made us far _more_ stubborn.

"I know, I know. He won't be pleased to see I've befriended them. But I must stand my ground this time. He's been gone since before the whole dragon incident happened, so he's just going to have to accept that things change with time. Especially if he's going to leave for years at a time to fight in some stupid war." I took a deep breath. I truly did not care if Hod and Gerdur really were affiliated with the Stormcloaks, for they had both been kind to me and let me work at their mill to make something of a living. Not to mention, I honestly thought the Stormcloak's motives were actually justified to some degree. But the very thought of my father knowing I thought so made me shudder. To confront him regarding why I now work for the two people he always told me to stay away from was going to be no easy thing.

Cal spoke again when he saw I was getting lost in thought, "Hey, let us not worry about it now. Father might not be home for another year. Or maybe he comes home next week. No matter which it is, that is a worry you can save for when the time comes."

As I nodded and gave a short smile, a knocking came from the door. Just after, it opened with its signature creak and Garren stepped into the house. He was a tall, strangely thin Nord with blonde hair. He was my age and had grown up with us in Riverwood. He spurted excitedly, "There's a stranger passing through! He's staying at the Sleeping Giant for the night. We've got to go have some drinks tonight, I want to meet this lad!" He sounded out of breath, as if he ran here to tell us this.

Cal and I glanced at each other, and Cal asked, "A stranger? People pass through all the time, at least a couple times a month. Why do you seem so worked up?"

"No, not just any stranger," Garren caught his breath, then continued, "I heard he's a sellsword! He's carrying around some fancy looking sword, not like the ones the guards have, and he's got that rough look you'd imagine a sellsword having. And his armor, you've got to see it! I bet he's got stories, and I'd like to hear them!"

In Riverwood, interesting people were always the talk of the town if they passed through. One time, an Argonian came through and almost the entire village tried packing into the Sleeping Giant Inn just to get a look at him. I looked at Cal, "What about supper?"

"Supper can wait," he replied, "I wouldn't mind seeing this fellow for myself."

We all exchanged smiles, and Garren said, "Let's go!"

We filed out of the cabin and headed towards the inn at a brisk pace. It was already much darker than when I had come in from work, for the last bit of sunlight was already fading over the western mountains. As we walked, we took turns speculating why the sellsword might be passing through Riverwood, where he might be heading, how many people we thought he'd killed, and other things of that sort. I couldn't help but feel full of energy. We lived for nights like these, where something actually came along to interrupt the daily routines we'd formed over our entire lives in the village we had always lived in. That's usually what me and Cal's hunting trips were for, to give us a way to break the long weeks of working at the mill, or in Cal's case, assisting Alvor with his forge.

As we approached the steps to the inn, a guard passing by said, "You boys stay out of trouble now, you hear? Have an extra drink for me, gotta' stay sharp for my watch as always." He chuckled to himself after we nodded to him and continued his patrol down the main road through Riverwood. We walked up the stairs, and I yanked the door to the inn open, with Cal and Garren stepping in right behind me.

The energy in the room was rather lively as I looked around. Sven was playing a lute and singing "The Age of Aggression" as Camilla danced about with Alvor's daughter, Dorthe, both of them giggling loudly. Embry, the village drunkard, was off in a corner by himself and mumbling over a mug of ale. At a table just across the fire in the center of the room, Lucan Valerius was having a drink and a chat with Faendal. Faendal saw us entering the inn, holding his mug up slightly with a nod and smile towards us before turning back to his conversation with Lucan. Faendal had always been a good friend to Cal and I, as he was the one who'd taught us much of what we know about shooting a bow. Of course, my father didn't care for our friendship with him given that Faendal was a Woodelf, but Cal and I always disregarded his disapproval as we saw no reason to dislike him. Upon looking over at the bar, I noticed the stranger for the first time.

"That's him, right there!" Garren whispered as he gestured towards the man.

"Yeah, we see him, Garren," Cal muttered, "Look at that armor, that's impressive."

The man had leather armor that was colored black as night, and black hair that fell to his shoulders with a small strand of it tied right in the middle and hanging down the back of his head. Instead of having his sword sheathed at his waist, it was slung across his back alongside his bow. The sword was much longer than the ones the guards carried, and it curved slightly instead of running straight. I could have sworn that for a moment, both the man's sword and black armor had had a sort of shimmer to them, like a film of light coating them, and then it disappeared. I figured it must be the way the light in the room was catching his form. When I looked at Cal's face for a moment, judging by his curious expression, he must have noticed the strange shimmer as well. Garren simply looked excited, eyes slightly wide and he was nearly bouncing on his feet.

"Let's go greet ourselves!" Garren let out as he took a step forward.

Cal and I both placed our hands on his arms before he took another step, and Cal said quietly, "Why don't we just sit down for now and let him settle in. Besides, we don't want to seem to eager. He's just a man like you and I, even if he is a stranger."

"Just a man! Did you see that sword? I bet he's fought dragons with that thing!"

I spoke this time, "No, Cal is right. I'm very intrigued to speak to him myself, but let's not go over there and overcrowd him with introductions."

Garren let out a sigh, but gave in and came with us to the end of the room and took a seat at one of the old, wooden tables. We carried on our speculation from earlier, and after some time Delphine brought each of us a mug of ale as she joked with my brother about needing to find himself a wife as she always does. Cal was a couple of years older than me, so many of the older women in the village would bother him about finding himself a woman so someone can look after him.

I looked up at the bar again, seeing Orgnar say something with a laugh and the stranger barking a laugh himself as he pounded his hand on the counter. After Orgnar handed him a new mug, the man turned around to face the rest of the room as he finished chuckling. His face looked very stern, with a chiseled jawline and dark eyes, shadows seeming to surround them. A large, deep scar ran from the center of his forehead, across his eye and down to his left cheek. After his dark eyes scanned the room, they stopped when he saw me looking and he stood staring for a moment. He looked confused, and even more so when Cal looked over in his direction. The confused expression quickly faded, as if he was trying to hide it.

He walked towards our end of the inn, a walk that carried a sense of self-established pride and dignity. I said out of the side of my mouth, "Hey, he's coming over here."

Cal and Garren looked up just as the man was standing over our table. Cal studied the man's face carefully, while Garren stared stupidly with his eyes wide open. The man spoke in a deep voice, "Might I join you boys for just a moment?" We all nodded. He grabbed a chair from a table behind him and pulled it up to our table. He set his mug down and leaned in, "I'm Borrin Terius. Just wanted to make sure I introduced myself as I saw you all staring at me across the room." I darted my eyes towards the others nervously.

After what felt to be a long pause, Cal spoke up, "I'm Calanon Al'Kri, Cal for short. Sorry about the staring, we just don't see a lot of strangers around here." Borrin's eyes seemed to twitch for a moment when Cal spoke our last name.

Borrin held one hand up, "That is quite alright. And what about you two? Your names?"

"I'm Garren Yvaris," Garren said before asking, "Is it true, what they say?"

Borrin's eyebrows furrowed, "Is what true, boy?"

Garren began, "You know, that you're a sell- "

I interrupted, "Garren, why don't we ask him questions later? I'm Jol Al'Kri, Cal's brother."

Borrin looked at Cal, and then back at me, "I can tell. You two've got the same look. And the same complexion. If I had to guess, you both look to be Redguard, except too light-skinned. Where are you boys from?"

I answered, "We're both from right here in Riverwood. But our father is Redguard."

"Ah, and your mother. She is Nord?"

"Was a Nord," Cal answered, "She passed when we were very young."

Borrin looked into his mug, "Sorry to here that. I am sure she was wonderful." He looked back up at us, "Your father... What is his name?"

Cal responded again, "Nalhrin Al'Kri. He fights for the Imperial army."

Borrin stared at Cal for a moment, looking as if something was bothering him, "Hm. Well, I don't suppose you want to hear some about me?" I found it strange that he moved on so quickly, but disregarded it.

Garren asked him, "Are you from here in Skyrim?"

"That I am not. I'm Imperial, from Cyrodiil."

"Do you serve the Empire? You certainly look tough enough to be an Imperial soldier. Tougher, even." Cal tried to smile at Borrin as he asked this.

"Used to," Borrin answered shortly. "I found that I didn't quite... Get along well with the others, so I left."

I took this opportunity to ask him, "What is it that you do now?"

Borrin leaned back in his chair and began after a sigh, "Well, I travel. I explore anywhere I can that I haven't been, or search for things or people that fascinate me. I seek knowledge, and sights, and acquaintances."

"That sounds absolutely wonderful. I wish I could travel around like that," Cal said, proceeding to take a drink from his ale.

"And why can't you?" Borrin asked.

"Well, I don't know. It just, it wouldn't be-"

I finished Cal's words, "Practical. How would we make a living?"

"Practical?" Borrin set his mug down again, "Forget practical. If you're constantly on the move, you don't need to make a living. As far as I'm concerned, seeing new things, meeting new people, that _is_ living."

"Fair enough," Cal responded, "But what brings you here? What is it around here that fascinates you?"

"Dragonborn," Borrin replied promptly.

Cal, Garren and I all looked at each other, and I spoke, "Dragonborn? How do you even know he is real?"

It was Borrin's turn to look confused. He furrowed his eyebrows and squinted his shadowy eyes at all three of us, "Are you joking?"

"Well, no," I responded, "none of us have actually seen him. Orgnar claims he's come to the inn in the middle of the night before, but Orgnar likes to tell stories. Plus, even he says he's never seen Dragonborn do a Shout."

Borrin only looked more confused, "Didn't a dragon attack this very village?"

Cal said, "Yes, but again, we weren't here to see it. Besides, dragons are just creatures, that's different from a mere man claiming to do powerful magic simply by way of his voice."

"I saw it, I was here when it happened!" Garren tried to interject, but Borrin brushed him off.

"You boys really haven't left your village at all, have you? Have you even journeyed to Whiterun? Riverwood is a part of Whiterun Hold, after all."

"We have," I said with a tinge of irritation, "We went with our father to Whiterun a few times when we were boys, and Cal and I have gone many miles out to hunt."

Borrin laughed this time, "Ah, quite the travelers now, aren't we?" He laughed more, and I was starting to get very annoyed with this man. "Look, you can't believe in dragons and then turn around and say Dragonborn can't be a real man."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"You see, when dragons breath fire, or ice, or what have you, that itself is using the Thu'um. Or the Voice, as many call it. It is exactly the same power that the Dragonborn wielded to defeat Alduin, amongst many other accomplishments." Borrin took a deep drink from his mug and leaned back in his chair.

"I read that in a book once. About dragons and using the Voice, I mean. But is it really true?" Cal leaned in with a curious expression as he asked this.

"That it is," Borrin responded, leaning back forward somewhat, "Anyhow, you ask what I am doing here? I'm here to see Dragonborn. He is to be in Whiterun in two days, being celebrated by Jarl Balgruuf and the whole city. A man who defeats dragons and absorbs their souls is definitely a man that I want to see." He took a last drink from his mug, tilting his head back to let the last drops fall into his mouth, before saying, "You boys should come with me. Get out of your little village for once."

Garren lit up, "You'd let us come with you?"

I was hesitant, "I don't know that that's such a good idea, I've got to help out at the mill and Cal's supposed to be at the forge with Alvor tomorrow." I looked over to Cal for his support, but he was smiling. "What, are you thinking about going?"

"Aren't you?" Cal said, "What could it hurt? Just one little trip to Whiterun. We haven't been in years!"

"It'll only be for a few days, and besides, I could use the company. Gets boring traveling alone for so long," Borrin had an amused look on his face.

I sighed, but then I gave in, "Alright, if it's just for a few days. It'd be nice to see the town again. I am a little sick of trees anyhow."

Garren and Cal were pleased to here me say this, patting my back and cheering. Borrin stood up, "Well, I best get some rest for the journey, it's a good twelve hour hike if you're on foot and walking. You three should do the same if you're coming. Pack up and meet me at first light at the north end of the village." He paused to think for a moment, "You two said you hunt, did you not? I assume that means you have bows?" Cal and I nodded. "Excellent, bring those with you, and a good stock of arrows. I wouldn't mind seeing how well you two can shoot. There might be wolves, anyhow."

Garren said excitedly, "I got a sword my Da gave to me! Should I bring it?"

"Sure," Borrin said, "maybe I can teach you a few things about how to use it while were on the way."

Borrin walked off to his room, and I turned to Cal and Garren, "Well, it looks like we're going to see the infamous 'Dragonborn' once and for all." The three of us stood from our seats and exited the inn. We chattered about what we needed to bring with us and how exhilarating the trip was going to be with the company of an adventurer. Cal and I parted ways with Garren when it was time to turn towards our cabin. I took a deep breath of the cold, refreshing air as I daydreamed about tomorrow's journey.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Spark

**To any readers out there, thank you for taking an interest in my story! This story has a slightly slower build-up, but I assure you that it will be picking up some action in Chapter 3, titled "Imprisoned", coming hopefully next week. I appreciate any and all follows, favorites, and views. I especially appreciate anyone who leaves a review, as the good ones will inspire me to continue writing and the critical ones will allow me to see my mistakes, correct them, and grow as a writer. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 – The Spark**

The particular feeling of walking out of the cabin with my bow slung on my back and a packed traveling bag is one that I never grew tired of. This was the first time I had ever prepared to go somewhere other than hunting without my father being there. This time, it was just me, Cal, and two friends. At least, I thought Borrin was going to be a new friend. He was much older than us, and I think he viewed us as children, but nonetheless he wanted us to travel with him. On top of this, we were going to actually see Dragonborn in person, which is something I could not stop thinking about. I also couldn't stop wondering if he was actually going to be there when we got to Whiterun. I simply could not find it in myself to believe in the stories about Dragonborn since I had never laid eyes on even a shred of magic in my entire life. Either way, the trip was going to be better than sitting around Riverwood.

Borrin was leaning against the stone wall that was part of the guard bridge on the northern entrance to town, right where he said he would be at first light. The sun had just barely begun to light up the sky from the east, and the mountains would continue to block much of that sunlight for many hours.

"Morning," I said to him as we approached. I noticed his armor and sword shimmering for a brief moment again, just like the night before, but this was particularly curious as no direct light was coming from anywhere. The shimmer faded as quickly as it came.

Borrin stood from leaning on the wall, "Good morning. I hope you both were able to get plenty of rest. Where is your friend?"

Cal and I both looked at each other, and Cal said, "Good question. Garren likes to sleep in, but I was sure he'd be awake in time for something like this. Should we go and wake-"

Just then, Garren came running up to stand between Cal and I, breathing heavily, "Sorry I'm a bit late. I had to explain to Ma why I was leaving, she didn't much care for the idea. I had to repeat many times that I was only going to be gone for a couple of days in order to get her to calm down."

Borrin spoke, "Not to worry, boy. We were just leaving. But, aren't you a little old to be explaining to your mother where you're going?" Garren's cheeks colored a little, but he didn't respond. Borrin chuckled, and then looked between the three of us, "Well, shall we depart?" With a nod from each of us, we all began our journey up the road.

For the first several miles, we all walked in silence. The change of scenery was enough for each of us to be occupied, all of us looking around at the surrounding nature. Borrin was doing the same, but I think for a different reason. He bore an expression of intent observation, as if he were scouting ahead and around. It felt like several hours had passed before he finally spoke, "Why don't we stop to eat for a moment?"

"Finally, I'm starving and my legs are already killing me!" Garren leaned on a tree and slid down until he was sitting.

"We're not even halfway, Garren. You can't be that tired already," Cal said as he swung his travel bag to his front so that he could pull out some dried meat. I had already done the same, chewing on the meat intently while I looked around.

Garren frowned, "Well, I don't go hunting in the forest like you and Jol do. You've done this more than I have."

"There's that, and we actually work on a near-daily basis," I said with a sly grin.

"I plan to work soon! Ma just needs me around the house still," Garren mumbled as he stood up and unsheathed his sword. He began swinging it about rather unskillfully as he chewed on his own strip of dry meat.

"You'll cut your own foot off using a sword that way," Borrin laughed as he took a bite of bread and cheese that he had taken from his own bag, "Here, let me at least show you a proper stance." Borrin began helping Garren hold the sword in the correct manner, and then proceeded to show him how to stand. I watched for a moment, and then turned to explore the area a little. I climbed a hill that looked out to the path heading north, scanning the land.

I noticed three forms lurking around a little ways up the path, recognizing what they were immediately. I went back down the hill and told Borrin, "We've got wolves up ahead. Three of them. They're directly in our path."

Cal said, "They won't likely attack. They're usually more scared of us than we are of them."

Borrin agreed, "Aye, that is true. But, would you say they're within range of, say, a bow and arrow?"

"I mean, yes. But why should we try to kill them when we can simply go around, or scare them off?" I asked.

"Their pelts sell for good gold, and we've got three bows here. Mine, yours, and your brother's. If we all shoot at once, and don't miss, none of them can attack us." Borrin smirked.

Cal and I looked at each other, he shrugged, and I said, "Alright, why not? I've never actually hunted a wolf before, let alone three. And if you say we can sell the pelt for decent gold, then I am definitely not opposed. What if one of us misses, though?"

"Don't," Borrin said simply. "But if they even try to attack us, I can take care of it."

"What about me?" Garren asked with his sword still in his hand.

"That sword isn't going to be much help here, I'm afraid. Perhaps it will be someday, but not today." Garren frowned at Borrin, but he sheathed the sword and followed us up the hill.

We all came to a crawl as we neared the top, inching our way up until we could see over. The wolves were still there, all sniffing around a pine tree. "This is quite the distance," Cal said with his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Are you doubting that you can hit them from here?" Borrin asked, but Cal shook his head as he bore a focused expression. "Good. I'll take the leftmost one. Jol, you have the middle. And Cal, the far right." Borrin said this with a sense of being right to the point, wasting no time whatsoever. Garren sat patiently, watching the three of us. "On the count of three, alright?" Cal and I nodded. "One." I knocked an arrow. "Two." I pulled back on the bowstring. I lined up with the wolf in the middle, with just the right amount of arc. I took note of the slight breeze blowing east, compensating by adjusting to the left by just a hair. I breathed out and lingered at the end of my breath. "Three." All three of our arrows loosed, nearly in perfect sync. I could almost feel my arrow sinking into the wolf as if I were the arrow myself. I watched as the three lurking forms down below fell to the ground.

"Well done," Borrin congratulated us with an impressed tone. We all headed down the hill to examine our kills.

As we approached them, all but one lay limp in the snowy grass. One of them was still quivering slightly and making quiet whimpering noises. This one was Borrin's target, with the arrow having gone through the wolf's abdomen. When looking at Cal's wolf, I saw that the arrow had gone right into its head. I looked at mine, and I had as well hit the wolf's head. Upon this observation, Borrin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Cal said, smiling, "I really didn't think I was going to make the shot." He looked very pleased with himself, and I was with myself as well.

"I don't mean to sound as if I'm bragging," Borrin began, "but it has been awhile since I've met anyone who can match my own skills in archery. And here I have met two, who have matched them and bested them." I bore a very big smile, for it was nice to be complimented by someone who seemed so well-traveled and combat ready.

"I wish I could shoot like that!" Garren exclaimed, then he frowned, "How come you two never invite me on your hunting trips?"

I glanced at Cal with a smirk, then said, "Because you talk too much, and talking scares off game." Cal let out a laugh, and Borrin bellowed a loud laugh as well.

Garren looked irritated, still baring his frown and his eyebrows furrowed, "I don't talk that much."

"To be a talker isn't always a bad thing, my boy," Borrin encouraged, laughing between his sentences, "There are many places I have been where talking can be turned into a profession. Especially amongst noble houses. One noble family always has something to say about another, but sometimes they feel it's necessary to pay someone else to do the talking, to spread the rumors." Garren's frowned lessened at this, and I'm sure he was now daydreaming about running around spreading rumors for gold.

Several hours later, we had cleaned the wolves, packed their pelts into our bags, and were well down the road from where we had encountered them. We were again walking in silence, and it was only when Cal spoke that this silence was broken, "Borrin, why does your armor and sword shimmer like that?" I came out of my thoughts as soon as he said this, intrigued to hear the answer.

"Shimmer?" Garren said before Borrin could speak, "It's not shimmering. His armor is dark as the night sky and made of leather, how could it reflect the sun?"

I looked at Borrin's armor, and strangely enough, it did not appear to be shimmering right now. I spoke, "I've noticed it too. But, Cal, it isn't shimmering this very moment."

This time, Cal looked between Garren and I, "Are you two crazy? You don't see it right now?" I was utterly confused at this. We all turned to Borrin for an answer.

Borrin looked over at Cal and said, "You've got the spark in you."

The three of us were all looking at each other in confusion before Cal asked, "The spark? What does that mean?"

"That means," Borrin began as he looked ahead, the evening sun causing him to squint his eyes, "that you have the ability to wield magicka."

With that statement, Cal stopped walking and gaped at Borrin, "You actually think I can do magic?" Cal's tone more so implied that Borrin was insane than it was a question of excitement. We had all stopped walking at this point.

"That I do. I don't just think it, I know it." It was a mere statement of fact from Borrin's tone. "If you can see this 'shimmer' you speak of on my armor, then you most definitely have the spark."

Cal questioned further, "How is that relevant?"

"The shimmer," Borrin held his hands apart as he spoke, "is the magicka that is laced and embedded into this armor's material existence. It's enchanted, boy. And only one who has the spark can see the magic that enchants it." Cal's eyes were wide open, and Borrin added, "That is why sometimes you see it, and other times not. And also why you saw it just a moment ago while your brother could not. You are both experiencing small moments where the ability to harness magicka is coming and going, and when it is there, you see the shimmer."

I realized my eyes were just as wide open as Cal's, and Garren was mumbling a fit to himself as he looked between us and listened. "Why don't you seem surprised at all to discover this about us?" I demanded.

"Aye, good question. Others who share the ability can detect it in others." Borrin's expression never changed or showed any shred of surprise. There were also no signs whatsoever that he was lying. He meant and believed what he said.

"You can do magic?" Cal asked incredulously.

Borrin adjusted his feet where he stood, "I cannot do much. My abilities are limited to the practice of Restoration, and even at that I can do very little. The fact that I can sense your ability, Cal, reveals to me that at least one of the sources you can tap into is of the restorative type. As for other schools of magic, I cannot say. Which brings me to say why I am a little surprised to learn that you," Borrin pointed at me, "can also see my armor shimmering. I cannot sense your ability. And yet you see that my armor is enchanted. Therefore, you cannot wield Restoration magic, but at least one of the other schools is a part of you."

Cal, Garren, and I stood in shock. I had never seen firsthand proof that magicka even exists. And here I was being told that me and my brother could use it? Yet… I believed him somehow. I knew that the shimmer of his armor and sword was somehow unique. It never really looked like light reflecting off, but rather a sort of filmy glow that move through the material. I just couldn't wrap my head around the fact that magic was even real.

"Will you teach us how to use our… abilities?" Cal asked carefully, as if trying to avoid the word 'magic.'

"I will teach you what I know," Borrin answered. "But first, let us reach the inn in Whiterun. The sun is already getting close to setting, and I could use a good mug of ale."

It seemed like no time had passed at all, for I was thinking constantly about what I had just learned, before Whiterun came into view perhaps an hour later. I saw the stretch of farms and land leading up to the great stone walls surrounding the city. Dragonsreach, where the Jarl resided, towered over everything in sight, save for the omnipresent mountains that scraped the clouds to the east and the west. It was strange to see land so open, with only scattered buildings, the occasional tree or rock formation, and a perhaps a windmill here or there. It was the opposite of Riverwood's thickly forested, hilly isolation.

I wanted to be excited for the fact that I was going to see Dragonborn tomorrow, but I couldn't stop thinking about what it meant that magic was real and that I could use it. If it was real, then Dragonborn… I realized suddenly that I feared someone who might be as powerful as they say Dragonborn is. I also grew fearful of the thought that anyone with similar kinds of power, even just someone who really knew how to use magic, might have bad intentions. I tried shaking these thoughts, setting my eyes on the city up ahead that I hadn't visited for over eight years.


End file.
